


SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK

by project_canary



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF, Sideshow - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Vampire AU, almost a twilight au?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 09:07:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21317647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/project_canary/pseuds/project_canary
Summary: How many times must we tell the same story,Before the story itself becomes old?Of the wolves and the sheep when the poor shepard sleeps,Of the fox and the chickens and the birds?Why can’t the sheep smile back at their hunter,With fangs as sharp as the wolves?The chickens can outsmart the foxesWith conniving little plans of their own.
Kudos: 4





	SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK

**Author's Note:**

> There's art that goes with this piece! It's amazing so go give that person some love! 
> 
> https://neglected-sadist.tumblr.com/post/188727463100/anon-you-sure-wanted-that-vamp-buck-huh-hey-i

_Why must our stories be tales of misfortune,_   
_Of the weak brought down by the strong?_   
_Can’t the weak fight back and fight dirty,_   
_Without the wolves crying out that it’s wrong?_   
_Who cares that it’s always been this way,_   
_Who cares that this is what’s right._   
_Because the birds are sharpening their claws,_   
_And the sheep bite with venom tonight._

* * *

  
Buck _ ached. _ He felt like he had been hit by a truck, twice, and then thrown down a hill, set on fire and then attacked by a pack of wild dogs. Ok, maybe that was an exaggeration, but at least the truck felt accurate, and given the location he had opened his eyes to find himself in, the truth might not be far off. He was laying in a puddle in the creepiest alley Buck had ever found himself in, his hands covered in something sticky. The sounds of the cars passing on the road adjacent were almost too loud, the ground beneath him feeling like pins and needles under his hands, as if he was touching gravel for the first time. It was mid-December, he should be cold but he almost wanted to take his jacket off. His whole body felt wrong, like the pain and emotions he was feeling were separated from his actual body, as if he _ knew _he should be feeling that way but suspiciously wasn’t. His head spun and he didn’t know if that was the alcohol or drugs or something else entirely. Buck groaned, scratching at his neck, his fingers coming away flecked with red. More than a little curious, he gently scratched again, feeling a spot on his neck. Two spots. Or really, holes to be more precise, about the width of a pencil each. His hand fell, flashes of what may have happened earlier coming together in his mind. A velvet suit, gold eyes, a quick smile. Blood. 

Buck glanced down at his clothes, realizing that they had been ripped to shreds and thought for a moment about running back to his apartment to change when something else seemed to take over his body. A hunger. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, listening to the city around him and inhaling deeply. Somehow, he could hear a person’s heartbeat half a block away as though their chest was pressed against his ear. The rest of the city sounds seemed to fall away as Buck focused. He was walking this way, and Buck approached the end of the alley, making sure to keep to the shadows. As the man got closer, his smell became even stronger, and Buck clenched his teeth to stop himself from whimpering. By now, his footsteps were audible, and as he stepped into the alleyway opening, Buck threw something to get his attention. Metal clanged across the ground, skittering to a halt somewhere in the distance. It worked, and the man paused, stopping to stare into the darkness, squinting, trying to make out what animal had made the sound, or if it was just the wind. 

He leaned forward, just enough for his nose to exit the safety of the street and Buck jumped, grabbing the man by the shoulders and dragging him into the alleyway. The man barely had time to comprehend what had happened before his head slammed against the pavement. Buck wasted no time. He didn’t want to ruin a hot meal. 

It probably wasn’t the blood loss that killed him. Probably. The head wound was much more significant, and he had stopped twitching long before Buck paused his drinking. The neck was the easiest place to drink, the skin the thinnest and the arteries the largest. As Buck sat back up, he took a deep breath, blood dripping from his mouth and down his chin, the warmth tickling his chest. He closed his eyes again. The hunger was sated. For now. He could still feel it, gnawing a hole in the bottom of his stomach and he knew he would have to feed again but for now, Buck felt normal. Normal-er. Normal enough that his brain finally caught up with his body and he realized what had just happened as he stared down at the man who very recently had been alive and in once piece, stared at the blood on his hands, tasted the blood coating his mouth like a coppery medicine. This was _ wrong _, completely and utterly wrong, but something inside of Buck kept repeating that this was what was supposed to be happening, and that comforted him enough that he wiped the blood from his neck, smearing it up his chin as he exhaled. 

He could feel some of his memories coming back, and Buck had work to do, and some revenge to settle. Despite the bloodshed, Buck had managed to avoid staining most of the man’s clothes, and well, the man wasn’t going to be needing his suit anymore, and it seemed to be about Buck’s size. 

“Must be my lucky night,” Buck chuckled, letting himself smile, feeling fangs poke out from between his lips. The sensation was new, like everything that had happened so far since Buck had awoken and he welcomed the stimulation. Buck stripped in the alley, pulling on the man’s suit, buttoning the shirt one by one, donning the black suit jacket. He folded the collar back down and caught his reflection staring back from a broken window. 

His eyes. That was the first thing he noticed, and he blinked, twice, trying to make sure it was actually him in the reflection. The eyes blinked back, and Buck was stuck staring at how impossibly _ red _they were. The irises, which were once a deep brown were now a bright crimson, highlighted by his paler than usual skin. They seemed to almost glow in the dim light of the alley, and Buck felt a chill run down his spine. He had never once in his life been scary. 

Maybe he could be in his second life. 

Buck smoothed the suit, pulling on the sleeves. The loudness of the world seemed to have dulled after his...feeding, but his senses still felt heightened. He needed to get to the Hotel Vasquez. He didn’t know why, but he knew that he’d find answers there. He stepped out of the alley and found the streets empty. His steps felt effortless, and he had to stop himself from breaking out into a full sprint. There was an intense energy that seemed trapped, and he wanted to let it free. _ Not yet, _he told himself, letting his feet lead the way. Buck couldn’t remember ever being in this area of the city, but he somehow knew where to go. 

Limousines lined the front of the hotel, and Buck paused, watching a couple exit, stepping onto a red carpet that lined the stairs to the entrance as crowds of people snapped photos. Even from here, Buck could hear the man’s pulse, beating rapidly. Strangely, the woman’s heart was quiet, and she seemed to make quick eye contact with Buck, flashing him a smile from across the street, her eyes almost bright gold. She couldn’t have seen him, Buck tried to reason. He was standing in the shadows, away from the bright lights that lined the hotel. But her gaze said different. He needed a way in. 

A light came from the side of the hotel and Buck watched a man in a white shirt throw a bag of trash into the alleyway. Buck followed the shadows and got closer, waiting for the next staff member to open the door. He held his breath, realizing with a start that he didn’t feel discomfort from the action. He hadn’t been out of breath from his jaunt across the city. 

He didn’t need to breathe. 

The door swung open again and Buck dashed across the street as it was shutting, letting it close gently on his hand and he snuck in. Staff bustled all around him, and Buck quickly shedding his black overcoat. Tossing it over his arm and pretended he knew what he was doing. He made his way through the maze of backrooms, and the sound of classical music began to get louder and louder. Finally, he reached a set of double doors and pushed them open, finding himself standing in a grand ballroom filled with people. 

It wasn’t the biggest room Buck had ever been in, hell, his high school auditorium could probably fit more people. But it was the most grand, the most elaborate, the most decadent room he had the chance to stand in. It was lit by candles, spaced out about the room and giving the whole place a wonderfully mysterious vibe. The ceiling was high and domed, and as Buck looked up, he realized that moonlight streamed in through a large hole in the roof, and some kind of shade was making it so a shadow was cast onto the ballroom floor. A crescent moon, beautifully reflected off the white marble floor, every so often interrupted by a flowing dress or a graceful step. Opposite where Buck was standing was a large marble staircase, with a dark double set of doors at the top. Two men stood on either side, seemingly guarding it. Buck’s eyes were drawn to the outsides of the crowd, where about ten people stood, even spaced around the many people dancing. 

Thousands of smells wafted over the gathering, and it was almost intoxicating. Butlers carrying trays of champagne flutes worked their way in and out of people, dodging the dancing couples with practiced ease. The glasses were filled with a dark liquid, and Buck watched a man gently grab one as a tray passed, taking a sip. A woman in a glittering gold dress paused in front of Buck, her eyes bright as she dragged along another woman behind her, wearing a matching silver gown. Both of them wore masks that covered the top half of their faces, with just their eyes visible, and Buck noticed that both of them seemed to have the same golden eyes as the woman for earlier. 

“Do you not have a mask?” She sounded breathless, but she wasn’t breathing heavy. She didn’t seem to be breathing at all. Buck shook his head no, and as Buck continued to scan the crowd behind the pair he realized everyone else was also wearing masks. He kicked himself for being this ignorant. It was a masquerade. The woman clicked her tongue in sympathy, opening her purse. “We should all be able to have a little fun tonight, right?” She spoke almost to herself as she removed a thick band of lace from her purse. Why she had that, Buck didn’t want to ask, but she leaned forward, tying the fabric around Buck’s head. She smelled comforting, like an old perfume that his parents would wear when they would go out to dinner on their own. She smiled as she admired her work, and Buck caught a glimpse of fangs poking out between her dark red lips. 

“Thank you,” Buck didn’t know what else to say, and the two women were gone as quickly as they appeared. He tossed the jacket over a statue before snagging a champagne flute and making his way to the dance floor. _ This place… _

Buck must have been here before. Why else would he had been drawn here so urgently, as if some invisible force was pulling him on a fishing line to this spot. He stopped, and time seemed to slow as Buck caught sight of someone making their way across the marble floor. 

He stepped into the moonlight, and Buck swore that he must’ve known him. Honey blonde hair and blue eyes that shone almost white in the light of the moon. And even through his mask, Buck could see eyes that looked distressed as a hand pulled him through the crowd. Buck didn’t know what else to do, but he stormed forward, grabbing the man’s other hand. 

“Hey,” whoever was pulling on the man’s wrist stopped, now focused on Buck. “I using this.” Buck didn’t like any part of that sentence, and bared his teeth. 

“Back off,” Buck growled and the man released his hold, fading back into the crowd. Buck turned back to the person he was now holding and watched their face go from confusion to absolute fear. 

“Buck,” His voice broke, and right then, the only thing Buck could hear was whoever this was in front of him, the shallowness of his breathing, the catch in his breath as he stared up at Buck in disbelief. “You were dead.” Tears welled up in his eyes, magnifying their blue. “I watched you die.” He whispered, and Buck saw flashes of memory as the man gripped his arms with ferocity. 

The same face but happy, his cheeks flush with laughter, the smile across his face forcing his eyes almost closed. A name popped into his head. 

“Bed,” the name crossed his lips and Buck felt as though he had spoken it many times before. “Bed.” He repeated, and Bed looked at Buck with the world in his eyes, letting Bed's hand clasp the side of his cheek, the warmth like fire against his skin. 

“You’re so cold now,” Bed complained, his eyebrows coming together in concern. “And your eyes...” Bed trailed off. “I’ll miss them.” Bed suddenly glanced around, grabbing Buck’s hands and pulling him closer and into the crowds. “They’re beginning to notice.”

“Who?” Buck asked as Bed spun him around, and they danced like they had danced before. Bed leaned close to answer. 

“The stairs.” Buck followed Bed’s words, his eyes finding the two guards. “They’re guard The Crow.” 

“The Crow?” Buck laughed, but Bed’s concern brought Buck back to reality. 

“He’s the one that kidnapped us Buck. Forced us to…” Bed trailed off, looking to the left, to the edge of the crowd, and Buck noticed the fresh wounds on his neck. Punctures, like the ones Buck had felt on his own neck earlier. “Don’t you remember?” Buck shook his head no as they continued dancing, and Buck realized that the room was getting darker. The moonlight was almost gone. 

“What happened?” Buck dipped Bed, and for the first time that night realized how _ sweet _ Bed smelled. Standing that close, as he slowly pulled Bed back up, Buck felt that hunger once again. The _ thirst. _

“You stopped. We were supposed to work this party, and you said no. The Crow made an example of you. We all were forced to watch him…” The memory seemed painful for Bed so, Buck didn’t force it. He was getting distracted anyway. He grabbed a flute from a passing tray, downing its contents. He could feel a drip of blood escape and make its way down the side of his face, and he wiped it away with his thumb. “Instead you became one of them.” There was almost disgust in Bed’s voice, a disgust that hurt Buck. He delicately grabbed Bed’s chin. 

“I can protect us now.” Bed looked like he was about to say something else, but the room went dark and Bed gasped. 

“It’s too late,” he whimpered, and a hush fell over the room. 

“Please welcome your host, Count Cronovan!” Even in the dark, Buck could see what looked like hundreds of birds erupt from the double doors at the top of the stairs. They hovered together, making their way down the stairs, forming tighter together, shifting and morphing until they became a person. A single crow circled the person’s head before landing on his shoulder. He was dressed in all black, and a long cape flowed out behind him, seemingly made of black feathers. He was dressed in all black, and as he stepped onto the marble floor of the ballroom, the crowd parted. 

“Please, call me The Crow,” he smiled, canines sharp against his pale skin. He scanned the room, and Buck noticed that his eyes too shone a bright red. He nodded and the lights returned, the music resumed, and the whole room seemed to breathe again as he headed back up to the room. As it did, Buck felt a hand grab his shoulder, and turned to see one of the bodyguards from earlier pushing him and Bed towards the stairs. 

“Wha-” Buck began to speak but was quickly interrupted. 

“Say anything and I’ll kill you right here.” And Buck promptly shut his mouth. They stumbled up the stairs and into the double doors, finding themselves face to face with The Crow. Up close, he was even more haunting. Dark eyes, slicked hair. A different bodyguard from before stood behind The Crow, his arms clasped behind his back, wearing the identical black suit as his brothers. He stood out though, with his red hair and matching red eyes as he glared the two of them down. 

“You have some explaining to do,” The Crow growled at Buck, and Buck spat at him, earning himself a hard slap from the red-headed bodyguard. 

“You fucked up, is what happened,” Buck snarled, and got himself another slap. “Someone didn’t do their job.” The man raised his arm to slap Buck again. 

“Wait Tomato,” The Crow ordered, and the bodyguard called Tomato paused. “Maybe he could be of some use to us.” 

“Yeah, use as firewood,” Bed grumbled, but The Crow seemed to ignore him. 

“We need powerful vampires in our regime Buck.” The Crow took a step closer. “If you join us, there’s no telling what type of power you might gain.” 

“What’s the catch?” Buck swallowed, and The Crow grinned. 

“Well, you either kill your friend here and accept our offer,” he stepped back, turning away as Tomato stepped closer, opening his coat to reveal a set of wooden stakes. “Or we kill you. Really, it’s your choice.” Bed pulled on Buck’s arm, and Buck faced Bed. 

Bed nodded, and Buck knew what he had to do. 

Buck cradled Bed’s head as he laid him down on the floor, and Bed smiled up at him, tears dripping down his face. 

“See you on the other side,” he whispered, and Buck kneeled next to Bed, placing one hand on either side of Bed’s body and inhaled. Hesitantly, Buck bowed down, until he could see the goosebumps on Bed’s collarbone from Buck’s breath. He got even closer, smelling the sweat on his skin, could feel the disruptions in the air from his pulse. The sweetness of blood was overwhelming, tempting, enticing, and Buck had to hold himself back from just ripping out Bed’s throat and letting his blood flow freely. Instead, Buck opened his mouth, lightly, delicately positioning his teeth on Bed's neck. And with one swift motion he punctured the skin and _ drank. _

The hunger was ravenous and unsatisfiable. He sat back, Bed’s blood dripping from his mouth as he stared in horror at his friend’s unmoving corpse. He felt sick. 

“Congratulations.” The Crow’s words felt empty and far away as he walked back to his desk, his back to Buck. Tomato turned as well, and Buck wiped his mouth. It was supposed to work. There was nothing. Buck couldn’t sense a thing, Bed was unmoving, his eyes closed, almost as if was was sleeping. 

Bed opened his eyes. They were glowing red. Buck smiled, his fangs glinting in the low light.


End file.
